My son is keeping a chart on his new pinboard that follows my perceived emotional well being. He says I'm a fifteen at the moment. When I asked him if that was good or bad, he said that it's better than zero. He said that if I get famous and publish a book it might go up, but if I get all shouty it will go down (apparently there is the potential to get down as low as minus one hundred and something). I'll let you know what my score is next time, but I'm guessing it will depend if he fills it in on a Sunday (room tidying and rat cage cleaning day) or not...
What else has been happening? Erm...I'm now a redhead. I think the Lily Savage look had been done to death, to be honest, so I got a Groupon voucher for a cut and colour somewhere that I thought was nearby. I went by the postcode, because my geography of Nottingham is a bit sketchy beyond the school and the big Tescos, and I thought that it ought to be somewhere around here - turns out it was over the other end of town and took half an hour to get there. The hairdresser took one look at my peroxide and roots combo and, rolling his eyes, said that it would take an hour and a half longer and cost an additional twenty quid. So I spent the morning reading many magazines and also many F Scott Fitzgerald stories (luckily I came prepared with my Kindle) and having many cups of lukewarm instant coffee. It does look better, I suppose. So that filled up most of the day today. The rest of the time since I last blogged I've been busy with the dissertation. Well, that and sports day (which took up the whole of Monday) and having cups of coffee in Costa and wondering vacantly which earrings to wear tomorrow night. Oh, yes, I haven't told you about tomorrow night, have I? So the urgency of getting my hair done today (and not kicking up a fuss at having to pay twenty quid in cash on top of the Groupon voucher, etc.) is that Hubby and I are going to a posh dinner thing on HMS Victory tomorrow night with all the people he was in Afghanistan with. And I couldn't possibly go with bad transvestite hair - although I do seem to have bad transvestite nails (which maybe serves me right for trying to do my nails and watch the football with two rats scuttling about on the sofa).
Right then, there's probably loads more I could tell you about, but I need to take my red hair, blue nails and fake-tanned face upstairs and get some beauty sleep in readiness for a night of listening to Afghanistan anecdotes. Night! xxx